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 Posted: Fri Feb 28, 2014 11:07 am
Jarel's vertical, and over the years, has become accustomed to readjusting himself quickly. He's also had his head kicked off more times than he can count, a number of them from his young brother and sister. The Dragon reaches up to catch Salem's foot, and acting quickly, attempts to take his head off with a clothesline
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Posted: Sat Mar 01, 2014 8:25 am
Freakshow appears atop the ramp looking devastatingly warm in his sweater and scarf. He shovels a handful of greasy buttery popcorn into his mouth and chomps indulgently, unperturbed as bits of it fall to the snow covered ground engulfing his feet. "WOOO. THIS IS AWESOME!" He shouts to his own claps, his voice muffled with popcorn as he trudges down the ramp, trying with enthused futility to start a chant, consequently enlightening those who hadn't already assumed, correctly, that the manager had fallen under some form of intoxication during his trek from parking garage to ring.
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Posted: Sat Mar 01, 2014 8:36 am
Brantley Summers, dressed for the occasion himself, walked carefully over the slippery ramp as he followed behind his mentor/manager/friend. He was noticeably less intoxicated but he still had his own brand of excitement he brought. "YEEEEEAHHHH! LET'S GO!" he screamed to the crowd, pumped at the match before him. Not signed to the BBW roster, this man was a fan, ready to get the best seats in the house.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2014 6:27 am
Salem's leg was caught in midair, a lucky move made by Jarel that spared him eating a spurred boot to the face. On only one leg, Salem's immediate reaction was to prepare for either another kick with his balancing leg, but the sudden appearance of his nemesis loudly announcing his arrival on the main stage startled the young champion.
Turning his head for just a second, Salem didn't notice Jarel's advancing lariat, the clothesline cracked across Croft's throat with an impact that made some in the crowd gasp as the M.W. Deuce was driven backward into the canvas. Colors and sounds blurred together in a blend of sensations - the most notable of which was pain - that created a disorientimg collage for the champion while he lay writhing and gasping across the mat.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2014 7:22 am
damn it, it's cold. But Jarel simply continues to move anyway. He'll have to concentrate on winning and deal with the possible pneumonia later. He reaches down and goes to pull Salem back up by the hair, and then shove him against the turnbuckle. Should this work out, he'd look to deliver some stiff left and right body shots to the younger champion
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2014 7:39 am
Still ailing from the near-decapitation, Salem was too preoccupied with rubbing his throat and elevating his lungs to notice Jarel already upon him, pulling the champion up to a vertical base by his hair. Like a thousand knots were tied to his scalp, the sting of his black locks being tugged from his head was excruciating, causing Croft to gasp and wince while being shoved into the corner. Head rattling like a pained bobblehead doll, Salem's squinting eyes shot open from the initial body blow, wind being beaten out of his chest while fans watched anxiously throughout the arena.
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2014 7:53 am
aiming to keep the pace up, Jarel grabs Salem's arm and attempts to give him a hard irish whip to the opposite turnbuckle, realizing early on what advantage he has and needing to use it to leave here as BBW world champion
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Posted: Sun Mar 02, 2014 2:39 pm
Salem's ribs were taking a harsh pounding from the bricks that served as Jarel's fists, disabling his short-term ability to catch his breath as The Dragon dragged the lad from the corner and towards the opposite with a vicious Irish Whip. Halfway across the mat, however, the Copperhead's legs started to tremble, his balance a victim of the jarring cold and the shock of desperately sucking in such frigid air despite the grueling circumstances. Doubled over as he reached the corner, the force behind Damone's arm drag sent Salem flipping head-first over the turnbuckles, tumbling hard to the padded concrete outside the ring.
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Posted: Mon Mar 03, 2014 10:11 am
that gets a burst of cheers, as the cold, in this case, adds to Jarel's still considerable power and removes the champion from the ring. This isn't the time to rest on his laurels. Jarel steps out of the ring and reaches down once again to pull Salem up in a front facelock. This time, he would attempt a quick vertical suplex on the hard concrete, looking to continue his work on his early targetted area
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Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2014 3:14 pm
Freakshow and Summers circle around to the side of the ring opposite to where the action had spilled. While they were perfectly willing to interrupt the match, wisely perhaps, they didn't seem to want much action. Not from the competitors at least. The inebriated Hall of Famer and his tag team partner descend upon the announce table, equipped with a heading to protect from snow. "Hey buddy! Let us in! Come on it's cold!" He plants his palms down on the desk, staring dead at the play by play man who seemed confused, he hadn't been informed of any guest commentary. "Uh I don't think-"
Before he can so much as finish his sentence Freak interrupts him with a hard smack across the jaw. The staff member slouches over in his seat, giving the blonde an opportunity to grab him by the collar and yank him awkwardly from his desk to the snow. The Marauder staggers around towards the now empty chair, stumbling clumsily over the downed mans body as the color commentator takes heed of the act and scurries off leaving his position open for Summers.
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 6:29 am
Salem felt his head being wrenched up only moments after his eye-popping fall over the corner. Wincing, the champion gasped as he felt his body elevate, defying gravity only to crash painfully to the exposed concrete! Flopping like a fish out of water, Salem screamed briefly before going limp, struggling to crawl towards the nearest ring steps! ðŸŽ
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 7:55 am
The Godfather of Hardcore sits up after the suplex, gaining a spatter of cheers. His focus, however, is on Salem, who is currently attempting to crawl towards the stairs. Jarel rise to his feet and quickly attempts to give Salem a hard stomp to the back of his head as he's crawling
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 4:07 pm
Certainly, the point of emotions is to act on them. Maybe there wasn't much action AJ could take, but a stroll down the ramp with aid from his cane had made the third cameo appearance of this match... different. A mixed reaction only led to the audience talking amongst themselves quite loudly. Was this a reunion of the Midnight Marauders? Probably not; Freakshow and Summers had been having themselves a gay old time. The hobbled Suplex Shooter was all business, and this was made obvious by the fire in his eyes and disgusted look on his face. Slowly, he made his way down the ramp until he took the same path as Freakshow. He extended his arm out to shake his former boss's hand, before telling the last employed commentator to follow his partners.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 2:18 am
Salem couldn't be distracted by the all-star cast coming out to seize control of commentary - he was more preoccupied with pawing his way up the ring steps from the arena floor. But before the Next-Generation Sensation could get himself upright, a heavy boot fell against the back of his head that bounced Salem's face off the steel stairs! The crowd groaned, wincing once more at the big screen replay as Salem rulled off the steps and onto his back in a dazed stupor. Blankly looking up at the set lights, the cold chipped away at Salem's spirits while the stain of blood marked his mouth from the busted lip he'd received.
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 7:39 am
Jarel suppresses the urge to smile a he realizes he's drawn first blood, literally. He's too intent on continuing in order to take his title. Reaching down, he looks to pull Salem up again and continue his onslaught with an irish whip into the ring post
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